


Moicy Moments

by ShipmentOfFail



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Coffee, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Moira is a whiskey aunt, Sharing a Bed, Teasing, petty revenge, winter fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-15 03:19:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13022151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShipmentOfFail/pseuds/ShipmentOfFail
Summary: Collected drabbles based on the daily prompts from the Moicy Discord.Chapter 1: Moira's body should not be feeling that warm against Angela.Chapter 2: The real problem didn't arise until Moira began messing with her coffee.Chapter 3: King's Row was a frozen hellhole and Moira would much rather be in bed with a blonde in her arms.





	1. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1: Moira's body should not be feeling that warm against Angela.

**Prompt: Warmth**

 

Warmth is the feeling when Moira's healing beam washes over Angela, her soreness suddenly dwindling, the scratches closing, leaving only dirt and ruined armor. So that was what it felt like. She had protested vocally, of course, reminding Moira that her nanites would eventually heal her in their own time - as if the other doctor needed a reminder. Perhaps Angela saw the faintest trace of concern in those mismatched eyes, or maybe she had imagined it, yet she felt eternally thankful and relieved when the soft light engulfed her and so she let out a sigh she didn't notice she had been holding.

“Don't be silly. You need to look out for yourself, too.”

\--

Warmth is that immense sensation flooding through her body after taking a decent sip from the pocket bottle Moira had offered her, her throat now effectively on fire. The culprit turned out to be Irish whiskey, of course, from somewhere near her hometown. She hadn't expected Moira to be that nostalgic about her upbringing, and certainly she hadn't expected an Overwatch member to bring alcohol to a mission, yet Moira was infamous for doing things on her own terms and Angela knew better than to question things.

They had reached their objective, yet Angela's nerves had worn dangerously thin. Trying to keep her team together while tending to their health and still moving the payload could be a tedious task at times. Most likely the Irishwoman understood this better than herself, so when Moira offered her this drink - her expression typically smug and maddening - Angela didn't act surprised. Instead, she tried to be tough, accepting the challenge without hesitation, and failing miserably when her face screwed into a grimace upon tasting the raw liquor. Moira chuckled and turned away, making her way back to the dropship. The after-effects left the blonde's face flushed and her body a furnace.

She scoffed and went to follow her. It should be annoying, the way the other doctor was always self-satisfied and looking down on others, yet Angela couldn’t find herself to care and finally let her tense muscles relax.

\--

Warmth was that special feeling of solitude that you could only share with certain people. And perhaps Angela would never expect one of these persons to be Moira O'Deorain, yet there she was, stuck in the laboratory with only the Irish doctor and none of the other staff to be seen.

It was Christmas and most Overwatch members found some time to spend with their families and loved ones. Peace and quiet that Angela had always made good use of, working on her research at the most random hours without ever being bothered before relaxing with a cup of mulled wine or two. The silence had never bothered her – quite on the contrary.

And so she should have felt annoyed when the labs didn’t turn out to be empty during Christmas. It had been no one else than a certain other doctor being the sole second occupant of the labs. They had gone on with their work as usual, never speaking a single word at all. Normally, this could have turned into a very awkward situation for the two of them, yet never once Angela felt pressured to speak up for some mindless chatter, or to exchange some of their usual bickering. Instead, they kept working side by side as the evening progressed. It was oddly comforting and perhaps she felt a sense of peace by being able to share this moment with someone. And perhaps, Angela thought, it wouldn't hurt to share some of her mulled wine from her homeland with Moira after work was finished.

\--

Warmth was that unexpected moment when Moira pulled Angela into a tight embrace, shielding her smaller body from the world, giving comfort in a manner that no one would have ever expected from the typically high and superior woman.

The battle had been hard, the losses were surging, and after working in the surgery for hours Angela still felt restless, defeated, and like she should have done so much more, cured so much more pain. Her body was yelling for rest and food, yet her mind was numb, unable to let go of all the images. Slowly she trotted out of medbay, heading to the living quarters when her body suddenly just went still. She idled and turned to the wall, her forehead resting against the cool surface of the wall as she tried to retain composure. She wouldn't cry - not out there, in public, in front of other people, but her body was shutting down and leaving her trapped.

 

Angela barely managed to take a look at the figure that had suddenly stepped up to her. It was Moira, eyeing her with an unreadable expression. The blonde now struggled even harder to not shed tears, and failed even harder once Moira wordlessly pulled her into her arms, her body then finally giving in and growing weak in the firm hold stabilizing her world.

It had become increasingly common for the two rivals to share intimate moments like these, showing weakness to the other one and receiving comfort in return. They had never talked openly about it, and Angela felt that it didn't matter in that moment. She relaxed, fully aware of gentle hands stroking her back, and finally allowed herself to cry.

\--

Warmth was the everythingness that surrounded her as she lay in Moira's arms, cuddled up to her chest with her own tiredness finally becoming noticeable.

Never once had she looked at the clock while working in her office and it was typical for her to forget about time. Hence she had no idea how long Moira had been idle on her couch, reading a book in silence since having entered wordlessly a while before. In the past Angela might have been annoyed, suspecting Moira to quietly look for another way to rile her up, yet she hadn't felt her presence to be intruding at all.

Finally Angela had stood up, muttering something about grabbing a new cup of coffee, purposely neglecting the way her body was longing for a nap. Moira lowered her book, sitting up and finally disrupting the silence.

“You look like you could use a break.”

The blonde sighed.

“Don't be silly, Moira. Work never sleeps.”

The other doctor looked slightly amused as Angela made her way to pass by the couch. What she certainly did not expect was for long strong arms to grab her shoulders and drag her down onto the couch. She yelped and protested, still not used to this kind of closeness and certainly not to Moira trying to be protective. She wanted to be furious, her workload a constant reminder in the back of her head. She wanted to pull away, but Moira always smelled nicely and despite her lean built she felt amazingly warm against Angela. Her usually so infuriating voice was gentle and comforting, and with the last fraction of consciousness she managed to kick off her slippers before succumbing to sleep.


	2. Morning Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2: The real problem didn't arise until Moira began messing with her coffee.

**Prompt: Morning Coffee  
**

 

The older scientist had a knack for riling people up. She was constantly full of herself and viewed the world around her with nothing but pity. It was nothing new to Angela Ziegler and by now she should have known better than to still get annoyed by her colleague's unique antics.

Certainly, said doctor happened to have a maddingly gorgeous face, an impressive height that made her feel all giddy inside and sharp wits that attracted Angela like a magnet. But, Lord, working with Moira O'Deorain could be tedious.

The real problem didn't arise until Moira began messing with her coffee. Yes, Angela Ziegler's morning coffee, the one constant in her life when work was overwhelming and rest eluded her. Every single new recruit in Overwatch quickly learned that nothing would stand between her and her very first sip of caffeine in the morning. Every violation of this rule would be punished with mild irritation - at best - or with a deathly glare - in the worst case.

No one kept her away from coffee. It was simply the original deadly sin.

And so it was even more outrageous when one morning she browsed the cupboard for her favorite mug, suspecting nothing evil at all. She had a collection of several cups with different slogans on them: “Self-medicating”, “Heroes never die...except on Mondays”, “I only heal those that beg for Mercy”, to name just a few. Her most cherished possession however was the mug that said "#1 Doctor in the World" because nothing else was more fitting for her.

At last she located the item and retrieved it from the cupboard, yet something was different. She wiped her thumb over what she thought to be a piece of dirt, yet the spot wouldn't move. She took a closer look. The number “1” in the slogan had been overwritten by a “2” in red with what seemed to be a waterproof red marker so that her favorite mug ever now spelled “# **2** Doctor in the World”.

“ _Was zur Hölle--_ ”

“Good morning, _Dr._ Ziegler.”

Bewildered Angela turned around.

It was Moira, of course, putting on her typically mocking smile before lifting a mug of tea to her lips. Her mug. Her favorite “# **1** Doctor in the World” mug.

And so Angela decided that Moira had to die.

\--

Regrettably, Overwatch was still in need of the geneticist's skills. And so she decided on another horrible punishment: Angela was going to war with her.

Before Moira could enter the office on the next day, Angela decided to slip a folded piece of paper under her working desk's leg which was sure to put it just slightly off balance. Angela was definitely not petty but Moira was stuck-up to no end and this tiny little imperfection of having a wobbly table would annoy her greatly. It was subtle but efficient. And she couldn't help but feel satisfied when Moira's stupid handsome face looked just slightly grumpier than usual on that day.

Since then it had only become worse.

The day after seemed to start completely normal. She didn't encounter Moira at all and went to the canteen to soothe her morning mood as usual. With a freshly-brewed cup of coffee she walked into her office and started on the paperwork. When she took the first sip, something seemed off. Angela disregarded it and quickly turned her attention back to the forms. Absentmindedly she took another sip, her eyes never leaving the important documents, and again something seemed weird. It was only the third taste of the beverage that threw her off. She took a long good look at the mug before it clicked.

Furiously she stormed back into the kitchen only to have her worst nightmare confirmed: The innocent coffee powder on the counter had been replaced by decaf.

Who in the world---

What kind of monster would even---

Moira.

\--

Revenge came swiftly and soon Moira found her collection of assorted biological teas replaced by some plain tea bags that had been abandoned in the common room long time ago. She was not the only one that could mess around with the other one's morning beverages so having her fancy leaf water reduced to inferior quality should teach her a lesson. Angela didn't mind the other doctor suspecting that she had indeed been the culprit - on the contrary. Let her reap what she had sewn. Perhaps the bottle of Irish whiskey in her drawer would be the next thing to go missing - or worse - get swapped with Scottish whiskey instead. Mercy knew no mercy.

None of this seemed to scare off Dr. O'Deorain however since Angela soon found herself pranked again. She had made a beeline for the coffee machine as usual. Other Overwatch members were eating breakfast in the canteen and talking quietly. She went to grab the coffee powder - a mental note to read the label first in her head - yet said bag was missing from its usual place. Not finding the item in question anywhere Angela concluded that she had to open a new bag of coffee and reached out to open the cupboard. When her gaze ascended she however found it barren. Instead, the desired powdered elixir of life had been moved to a much higher shelf, the bags neatly stacked on top of each other and definitely out of her humble reach.

It took a few moments for her to process this unusual situation. She was not a small woman by any measures; she was above average height in fact. That certain shelf however was exclusively restricted to the taller humans and gorillas of Overwatch and she found herself helpless over the situation. She would look pathetic and stupid when trying to reach for the coffee or when resorting to ask for help.

And of course only one giant woman would dare embarrass her like that.

Even before turning around she could feel the smugness in her attractive face.

“Need a hand there, Angel?”

\--

Why?

Why did she always have to get on her nerves?

What did Angela do to deserve that attention? She wanted nothing else but to be a good colleague and to advance science by collaborating with Moira. Soon she spent every single moment thinking about the redhead and how to get back at her. It was simply not fair that such a brilliant mind was hidden inside such an infuriating person. Not to mention the smirk that went under a skin in negative but also in other ways. But, yes, Angela was getting distracted again.

She was busy lamenting over the other doctor to Reinhardt, the only other person in the base to know German. It was nice to speak her native language at times and he was always willing to listen to her troubles. When she began yet another rant over Moira however he just threw her giant arm around her shoulders and laughed.

“Oh Angela, _was sich liebt, das neckt sich_.” - The quarrel of lovers is the renewal of love.

With that he disappeared around the corner.

Oh no.

No no no no.

Absolutely not. They were not lovers. She did not have a thing for Moira O'Deorain. And certainly Moira did not have a thing for her either - she belittled the younger doctor in the same way she mocked everyone else. She just happened to spend an abnormal amount of time on ticking Angela off, yes. And she corrected her papers and scolded her for sleeping too little, right. And she looked absolutely stunning while doing so, her eyes beaming with purpose and her voice full of confidence. Angela did not enjoy being the focus of Moira's attention at all. None of this meant anything. No.

She stood in the hallway unmoving and stared off into the nothingness as realization slowly trickled into her mind.

...

“Scheiße.”

She totally did have a thing for Moira O’Deorain.


	3. First Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King's Row was a frozen hellhole and Moira would much rather be in bed with a blonde in her arms.

**Prompt: First Snow**  
  
  
A noisy alarm interrupted the idyllic scene. Just as quickly it was shut off by a disgruntled voice command. The speaker's pale figure shifted once more under the covers, unwilling to exchange its cocoon of warmth for the coldness and darkness that was their hotel room.  
  
Moira mentally cursed, vowing to properly adjust the environmental systems to the harsh weather conditions later. Winter had King's Row in its frosty grip and no one should be forced to wake up to a room that has not even been preheated yet, especially when the sun had yet to rise during that time of the year. All of these circumstances made her even more unwilling to leave behind her present state.  
  
Her limbs were entangled with those of the warm body next to her. Only a heap of blonde hair was peeking out from below the covers and a barely conscious murmur was the sole indicator of that person having even heard the alarm. Clearly, that someone in her arms was even less eager to wake up early in the morning.  
  
With uttermost reluctance and a deep sigh Moira managed to untangle herself. It was no use crying over spilled milk and she was certainly not the type to enjoy cuddling, but going back to sleep with Angela in her embrace had never sounded more tempting. Said woman even protested her attempts of escape but was eventually soothed with a kiss to the forehead.  
  
As much as she would love to grant the younger doctor some rest, they had matters to attend to. The faster they could pump some caffeine into their tired bodies, the better, the logical part of Moira's mind concluded. Soon they had gotten up and were dressing in relative silence. She then switched off the lights and headed for the door, the hotel cafeteria and its breakfast selection firmly established as the target in her mind.  
  
Angela however had not been following after her. Her gaze wandered in search of her and located the younger woman standing by the large window in the now dark room. Something seemed to have caught her attention and she took in the generous view over the sleepy city. King's Row was still veiled in darkness but already getting busy with the morning rush.  
  
In that moment Moira couldn't pinpoint why but she inevitably felt drawn towards the blonde. Without putting much thought into it she stepped behind her, engulfing the smaller body in a warm backhug and watching the city with her.  
  
Just let her have a few more moments of peace, Moira thought to herself.  
  
\--  
  
The grim season left King's Row behind as little more than sad colorless stone. Not even the sun could breach the grayness of the sky. The only consolation were the Christmas decorations that brightened up that unusually cold winter day. For the night the temperatures were however said to drop even more, tempting residents and tourists alike into staying indoors.  
  
If this was Volskaya they might have prepared for harsher conditions, but currently their respective Valkyrie suits were all that protected them from the raw cold. The material was somewhat weather-resistant and the internal systems provided them with basic environmental controls which however could only do so much. In the meantime they were doomed to sit and wait on the roofs of London and remaining idle for a long time was simply not pleasant to any human.  
  
It was a dense civilian area and open combat was to be avoided at all cost yet there was always the chance of an Overwatch mission going south. For that reason both doctors remained on standby in case a transmission summoned them to field medic duty while the other units moved through the city. This however had left the pair immobile, unable to even gain some warmth by moving around.  
  
Moira gazed at the other woman again. Angela seemed distant, looking over the neighborhood from their elevated position. From the way she hugged her own form and shifted between her legs occasionally it was however clear that the cold had been getting to her.  
  
How typical, Moira thought, the blonde had always been prone to freezing easily. Despite her gentle teasing she would often wear ridiculously fluffy socks and sweaters around the base, her ice-cold hands glued to a hot mug of coffee at all times. On a personal level, this circumstance became even more evident to Moira at night when Angela would press her frozen limbs to her in bed, hell-bent on leeching the last drop of warmth out of her body. Having been raised in Switzerland had obviously done little to prepare the blonde for a little chill.  
  
Seeing her younger companion in her current state made her roll her eyes. Her mind started to analyze and consider the options. She might advise the other woman to take a hot bath later, when the mission was over and her body needed to regain heat. A certain warm drink from roasted beans was also guaranteed to rekindle her spirits. For the time-being their options were limited however.  
  
Again she didn't know the reason for Angela's quietness. Although the doctor was an experienced member of Overwatch she might be dreading the potential combat, she speculated. Moira could speak about medical topics for hours but when it came to personal issues she had never been a friend of words and so found it hard to express her interest in her companion’s behavior. Whatever the cause of Angela's demeanor was though, she felt the need to demonstrate her support in some manner.  
  
Eventually she reached out and clasped their gloved hands together. This seemed to pull the doctor out of her thoughts at last. It had hardly been more than a gesture and the Irish scientist disliked that she could not provide more warmth to her counterpart at that moment. Their armor blocked every possibility of body contact after all. However, the serene smile that grew on Angela's features seemed to warm up the air by just the right amount, and she hoped that Angela was feeling the same.  
  
\--  
  
The mission had come to an end at last. There were no larger incidents to be reported and so the pair had a free evening to themselves. After getting properly reheated in the hotel even Angela was in the mood to use the spare time to explore the city a bit more.  
  
By the time they had stepped out of the hotel again, the short winter day had already left King's Row in darkness once more. This time they were dressed in civilian clothes however, granting them the opportunity to fend off the cold in more comfortable ways. Besides, Moira had to admit that Angela looked rather adorable in her fluffy winter attire, slightly reddened nose and cheeks peeking out from behind the scarf. Not that she would ever say it out loud when there was a chance to tease the younger doctor about her choice of clothing instead.  
  
Lena had given them some friendly recommendations on how to spend the night in London, but in the end they opted for a quiet dinner and some relaxed gift shopping. Afterwards they found some less busy streets and walked next to each other in comfortable silence.  
  
It seemed like a stark contrast to their usually hectic lives. Just Angela and her, without some dramatic scientific breakthrough to pursuit, injured teammates to treat or escaped lab bunnies to catch. Somehow Moira couldn't find herself to mind, though. She must be getting old, she concluded mentally.  
  
The kept strolling through the night in silence when Angela abruptly came to a halt.  
  
Moira turned to her and mustered her in amusement while the younger woman simply stared off into the sky. Suddenly her eyes widened in amazement and at last the redhead could detect the source of her surprise: It had begun to snow..  
  
White crystals began twirling in the pale streetlight and from the sight of it, it was not going to stop snowing anytime soon. The grayness that had been King's Row was now being covered in a layer of thin ice and Angela seemed ridiculously thrilled by that fact.  
  
It was a peculiar thing really, for a woman of her age to derive so much happiness from a simple weather occurrence, Moira thought. She couldn't help but feel drawn in by her happiness though. Not when her eyes were shining in enjoyment like that.  
  
Feathery snowflakes settled on top of blonde hair and again Moira felt that image tug at her heart. They were women of science and reason, but at some point on the road the younger one had become overly efficient at taking her breath away over and over again.  
  
Eventually the older doctor could not resist her partner's excitement anymore and in rare display of affection leaned down to press a series of gentle kisses to the blonde's lips.  
  
She was never going to admit it but somehow the Swiss woman had managed to sneak her way into her heart. There in the snowy streets of King’s Row, it had become clear that Moira O'Deorain had fallen hard for Angela Ziegler. And she was not going to let go of these soft lips any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also known as: „Waking up to a cold room in winter is no fun“ and „Moira O’Deorain is fretting over Angela all day long but of course she’s not in love”
> 
> CrimsonRaven let the lab bunnies escape.


End file.
